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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27034240">i know a place</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphictomaz/pseuds/sapphictomaz'>sapphictomaz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The 100 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Finale, red string of fate metaphors are obvious, transcendence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:55:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,857</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27034240</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphictomaz/pseuds/sapphictomaz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Murphy dies, and then transcends - but as we all know, death is not the end.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bellamy Blake/John Murphy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i know a place</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Murphy starts glowing, his first thought is that he’s dying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cool,” he mutters, not because his life is ending, but because the light emitting from his fingertips reminds him of sunsets and it’s nice, he thinks, to have one final moment of peace before he goes back to hell. There’s no doubt in his mind that’s where he’s going. Even though Emori, who now lays next to him in his mindspace, insists on telling him that what he saw wasn’t real, that it was only a hallucination, he knows that it’s his destination. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emori’s still lying quietly next to him. If she sees the bright glow that descends on both their bodies she doesn’t say anything. Maybe it’s not as compelling for her to observe her own death, not when she’s already died once and the version of her that lives is nothing more than a string of code implanted in his own neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s all not very romantic, not when he says it like that, but maybe that wasn’t what he was after when he made the decision to put her mind drive in his own head after she’d died. Maybe all he’d been searching for was a fleeting moment of comfort amidst his grief. If that’s true, then he’s found it, he thinks, and he smiles as the glow becomes too bright to see through. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room falls away, and so does he. The bed underneath him vanishes and he feels weightless, as though he’s floating through the universe himself. For a beautiful, harrowing moment, he feels absolutely everything and nothing at all. All the pain he’s ever experienced seems to wash over him, but it doesn’t hurt - it’s more of a memory, a reminder of what he’s been through, and somehow he feels absolutely sure that it’s all over, now. Wherever he is now, pain is nothing more than a marker of his past. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Murphy feels completely at ease, and then - </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes open, and he’s somewhere completely different. The sudden change of setting without his consent should shock him, but like his pain, this emotion falls away before he even notes its existence. The sun beats down overhead, forcing him to squint through its brightness, and when he can finally see what’s in front of him, he realizes he’s standing at a cliffside. Wind blows through his hair. The grass at his feet shakes in the breeze and loose rocks plummet down the cliff, falling far below. He doesn’t even need to see the discarded red seatbelt on the ground to know exactly where he is. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t you worry, Bellamy, I won’t drop you, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he’d said at this very spot, a very long time ago. This memory stays with him, as fresh as if it happened yesterday. A chill that’s not from the breeze fills his bones and though he knows that this can’t be real, that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>dead and he isn’t really standing here, he wonders when hell got so personal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t matter what he said the first time he was here. It doesn’t matter that he meant it, or that he’d pulled Bellamy back up the cliff with nothing but his own strength and willpower, because Bellamy might as well be laying at the bottom of the cliff right now for all the good it did him. He’s dead, anyways, and being here is nothing but a simple reminder of this fact. In the end, Murphy didn’t save him, and now his greatest regret is right in front of his face to haunt him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except - he’s not alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow, he’s not surprised at all when he hears footsteps behind him. He knows he should be, but he’s not even shocked when the person reveals themselves to be Lexa, or, at least, someone using her image. Murphy doesn’t know how he knows that this is the Judge - the very same person that gave humanity the test and allowed them to transcend. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Transcendence. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The word feels unfamiliar on his tongue and yet, as he thinks about it, he knows exactly what it means. He hasn’t died - he’s transcended, and gone on to a higher plane of existence. The thought of someone like him joining the higher consciousness makes him want to burst into laughter, but the sight of the cliff in front of him and the image of Clarke’s dead girlfriend at his side sobers him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, John,” they say. “Or - Murphy, is it? That is what you prefer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” he replies. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa hums. They aren’t really Lexa, he knows that, but it feels easier to pretend that they are. He had only met the real Lexa once, when he watched her bleed out and die in front of him. It feels nice and almost comforting to entertain the possibility that those who have died haven’t necessarily met their end. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome,” they say after a pause. They’re standing next to him, now, hands clasped in front of themself as they gaze over the cliffside with him. It’s a beautiful scene, it is, and in any other circumstance, maybe he’d appreciate it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Murphy isn’t sure what to say to that. “So it was real, then?” he asks. “The last test, or whatever? Clarke passed it, didn’t she?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clarke did not,” Lexa says, “but humanity has passed, yes. Your race has been given the gift of transcendence.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clarke didn’t pass?” he repeats, stunned that he’s been given something that Clarke Griffin couldn’t achieve. It feels wrong, almost, to know that. He’s been allowed to be here because - for what, really? Because he happened to still be alive at the time?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa, despite the fact that they do not hold human emotions, seems slightly regretful at this. “No,” they say. “Clarke did not, and as such, she is not allowed to join us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Murphy glances around the cliffside, letting the silence demonstrate how nobody else is there. “Us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They look somewhat amused as they stare out at the horizon. “You are part of the collective consciousness,” they say. “You, and all your friends, are connected to each other. What you see before you is not real. It is merely...a transition stage.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It explains at least how he understood the concept of transcendence without ever learning about it, but there’s so much more he doesn’t understand. “I know it isn’t real,” he says, gesturing towards the cliff, “but why am I seeing it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Transcendence can be a shock,” they say. “Your mind was not yet ready to experience it, and so it placed you in a familiar location. Most people see something comforting, such as an image of home, or a location that is special to them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughs dryly. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa pauses, as if they’re debating what to say next. “When you are ready,” they say, “simply walk away. Leave this memory behind, and join us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The breeze seems to grow colder. “Is it better there?” he asks, his voice growing small as the honesty weighs on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it really better?” he asks again, turning to face them and trying to ignore how they fail to meet his gaze. “Transcendence, I mean. Is it better than being alive?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa blinks, turning their head to the side as they decide. “You can answer this for yourself,” they say. “Think about something you hold dear, something close to your heart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s pitiful how he doesn’t even need to think about it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bellamy, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thinks, and almost instantly he’s standing there. He’s not real, he’s a memory, but Bellamy Blake himself stands in front of Murphy, looking exactly how he did when they first met. “Someone has to help me run things,” he says, and Murphy lets out a shaky breath as he stares at him, because it feels </span>
  <em>
    <span>real. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It feels as though he really is standing in front of him and he can have this moment, once again, and maybe he isn’t as lost as he thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Murphy turns and there’s Bellamy again, only he’s different, this time. He’s older, and he’s leaning over a table, an easy smile on his face. “Where’s your sense of adventure?” this one says, and then as he goes on to talk about pioneers, there’s another Bellamy walking across the field with a forlorn expression. “I’m sorry, man,” he says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every time he blinks, there’s a new memory of Bellamy right in front of him, and each one of them feels just as real as the last. Murphy thinks if he were to approach one of them, he could join the memory and relive the moments they’re depicting as if it were the first time he’d experienced them, but he stays right where he is. These moments, and everything they mean to him, are better left untainted as they are. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Across the field, there’s another Bellamy, that looks how he did during their early days on the ground, but Murphy doesn’t recognize the memory he comes from. “Who we are and who we need to be to survive are very different things,” this Bellamy says, the line completely unfamiliar. As he looks at this one, more Bellamys appear, and not all of them are ones that he knows. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“These aren’t all my memories,” Murphy says, looking over at Lexa. As his attention is pulled back to the cliffside, he sees Bellamy hanging over the edge, clutching onto the rope made out of red seat belts for dear life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Lexa replies. “They are from everyone here who has transcended. As I said, this is the collective consciousness. You have access to the memories and feelings of every single being here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That feels kind of invasive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa shrugs. “Maybe. We find it enriches our experience.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course you do,”  he says with a sigh, gazing over at the field of Bellamys. They all begin to vanish, one by one, dissipating into thin air. Even though he knows that they’re nothing but memories, it hurts to see them leave, one by one. “So, that’s it? Transcendence is just seeing memories all day?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you follow me, then you will find out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not very convincing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa pauses. “There is another reason you are reluctant to transcend, correct?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He bites his lip, shaking his head slightly. “You’re the all powerful being that decided we could be here,” he says. “Why don’t you tell me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They don’t need to clarify who </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>is. “Well,” Murphy says, “is he here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The dead do not transcend,” Lexa says, softly. “He is only a memory, here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Murphy nods, once, a lump forming in his throat as he fights the tears that threaten to fall from his eyes. As the sun shines down on him and the breeze flies on by, he thinks that this place is getting closer and closer to hell the longer he’s here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what, then?” he says after a while. “I just have to walk away and then I’ll fully transcend? That’s it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their tone implies something else, something they’re hesitating to say. “Is there another choice?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa nods. “Of course,” they say. “Transcendence is a choice by itself. No one has ever chosen to go back - well, until now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your people are quite curious,” they say, a gleam of something kind in their eyes. “As I mentioned, Clarke herself was not allowed to join us. After learning of this, a number of others elected to go back and live the remainder of their lives with her, rather than stay here with us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Murphy can’t hide the smile on his face from hearing this. It’s his friends, he knows, that have chosen to go back. He doesn’t completely understand how transcendence works, but when he reaches out and tries to find them, he can’t - he only sees memories of them, from those who have stayed. “So that’s it?” he asks. “I go with you, and transcend, or I can go back with them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can,” they say, “but there is - there is a third choice. It is an unconventional one, but a choice, nonetheless.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s selfish, maybe, but the thought of going back to his friends isn’t as enticing as it should be. Sure, it would be nice to see them again, but without - well. He knows why he doesn’t want to. Below them, the Bellamy on the cliffside vanishes, the last one of his remnants to disappear. “What’s the third choice?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can send you back to a memory,” they say, “and you can stay there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Murphy blinks. “That doesn’t make any sense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said before that transcendence was merely viewing memories all day,” they say. “This is not quite true, but there is something to that. Our experience, our existence - it’s all made up of memory. Your existence here, should you choose it, can be entirely made up of one, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks over the cliff, trying to figure this out. “So - it would be like living in a memory, you mean? Just revisiting one moment over and over again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In a sense,” Lexa says. “Except you yourself would be alive in the moment. It would no longer be a memory - you would be able to change things, to impact your environment, and live a full life inside the scenario.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Change things?” he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. The impact of this hits him hard. He’s got so many regrets that even now, with all of them meaningless, they weigh him down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They nod. “You can live in the memory as if it were real life,” they say, “but if you decide this is something you would like to do, you must keep this in mind - changing events comes at a price. You would not remember your life after that moment, nor would you be aware that you have transcended. You would not know that what is happening around you is not real. In every aspect, it would </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>real, and if you died, you would die in all aspects. You would not transcend afterwards.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” he asks. “It sounds to me like a simulation, nothing more. Why are there so many rules?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa laughs softly. “My people do not do well with regrets,” they say, “and we have never been kind to those who do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So the alien race that decides who is worthy of transcendence and who isn’t is flawed just like everyone else, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More so than most,” they say. “I will give you as much time as you need to decide, Murphy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They turn, getting ready to walk away, but he calls out to stop them. “Wait!” he says, cursing at how desperate he sounds but unable to quell his emotion. Lexa stops, and looks back at him, their expression nothing but genuine. “My friends - are they okay? Will they be okay?” The choice for him is easy, but only if he knows that it won’t hurt anybody else in the process. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa gives him a small smile. “Let me show you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cliff falls away, the scene around him once again shifting into something else. He’s standing on a beach, suddenly, right next to a large, glittering lake. There’s laughter all around him and this is what he hears first. A sense of calm fills his bones and though there’s a chilling breeze here, too, he only feels warm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raven’s the first one he sees. Her bright red jacket stands out against the scenery and she’s smiling, wider than he’s ever seen her, as she embraces someone else that he soon recognizes to be Emori. She looks happy, too, and very much alive. Jordan and Hope sit together off to the side, and so do Octavia and Levitt. Echo and Niylah embrace, Indra and Gaia stand together and Miller and Jackson walk by the water, hand in hand. They all look happy. They’re all together, and at peace, and no doubt waiting for Clarke to show up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re all happy and at peace, and he’s not there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t sting, necessarily, because he knows it’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>because </span>
  </em>
  <span>he’s not there. If he were to choose to go back, he knows he’d be welcomed with open arms and they’d be happy to see him, but - then he’d be alone. He’s not a fool. He sees how Emori and Raven look at each other, and he knows that they don’t work as a pair when survival isn’t a factor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he tries hard enough, he can see himself on the beach with them, and he knows what it will look like. At first, everything will go fine, and then as the reality and loneliness sunk in he would become who he was on the Ring. He’d isolate himself, and the others would let him because he wouldn’t give them a choice, and there would be no one to bring him food and no one to tell him that he was worth something. Murphy doesn’t want that to be his future but if he went to this beach, alone, he doesn’t see how there would be any other outcome for him. Even after everything he’s been through, he’s yet to come up with a way to cope with the simple pressure of being alive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he tries to speak again. “They deserve this,” he says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you don’t?” Lexa asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe,” he says, “but so does he.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The dead don’t transcend,” they repeat, quietly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Murphy scoffs, wiping his eyes to keep his dignity. “That’s a stupid rule.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They nod. “I do not disagree,” they say, “but it is the way of things. I cannot change that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you can’t,” he says, “but I can. I’m going to change things. I have to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that your answer?” Lexa asks. “You know that this will cost you your chance at transcendence if you should choose this path.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They turn to him, and the beach falls away into the background, nothing more than an out of focus possibility. “I can sense that you are,” they say, “but I have to ask you one more time, Murphy. Are you absolutely certain that this is what you want? You cannot change your mind once you have made this decision.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thinks of Bellamy, hanging over the cliffside, and if he focuses hard enough there’s a red seatbelt still in his hands. This time, he’s not letting it break, and he’s never letting it go. “I’m sure,” he says. “I choose the third choice. I want - I want to change things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” they say, smiling warmly. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Murphy. I wish you all the best.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods, and as they walk down the beach and out of sight, he gazes out over the lake. It’s beautiful, he thinks. Hell, surely, would not give him a setting so sublime. The presence of the water itself comforts him and he closes his eyes, breathing in the fresh air, and then - </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s all over. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s nowhere, but he’s everywhere, all at once. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Murphy no longer exists in any tangible concept but his memories do. They’re forever a part of the higher consciousness and it’s these that he’s now browsing through. Every single moment of his life is flying by him, as though on fast forwards, and he does nothing but watch it go by. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He gets one, he knows. He gets to pick one moment, one moment that would change everything, and he gets to live it once again - and then experience everything that comes after, for better or worse. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s an easy choice, he thinks. So many regrets weigh on his shoulders, but there is one that outshines all the rest. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The dropship falls to Earth in front of him, but it doesn’t matter. He isn’t there yet. Instead, he keeps watching, as a younger version of himself navigates a treacherous planet. He’s tortured not once, but twice, and many times over he attempts to become the hunter rather than the prey. Still, none of these moments are the one that he’s looking for. He wishes that some of them had gone differently, and he’d make other choices if he were to live them again, but they didn’t impact his life the way the one he’s searching for did. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The hanging. Three months of isolation. Praimfaya. Six years in space. “Say you’re not worthless, and I’ll let you go.” More fighting, more near-death experiences, and more pain. Drowning. Dying. “I’m sorry, man,” and then - </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s here. The memory is right in front of him and the scene slows, as if it knows that this is the one he’s been waiting for, that this is the moment where he can make a difference. His friends are fine. The last war is over. There is nothing else for him to be concerned about, and there is nothing else standing in his way. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And Murphy, well - Murphy’s got some exploring to do. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s sitting in a chair at the bar in Sanctum, and Bellamy’s leaning over the table, gesturing to a map of the land he’s got from who knows where. It all feels very easy, and very familiar, yet there’s something not quite right going on and he can’t place exactly what it is. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Two hundred years, and this is all they mapped,” Bellamy’s saying, referencing the citizens of Sanctum knew so little about their own territory. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why leave when you’re safe, right?” Murphy says, the words falling off his tongue before he can stop them. But - no. He doesn’t want to say that. There’s something else going on here, something that’s beyond him, that’s just out of reach, but he can’t quite figure it out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t matter. Bellamy keeps talking, taking charge of the situation, as he always does. “Oh, come on, Murphy,” he says, “where’s your sense of adventure? We’re pioneers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t want to be pioneers, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thinks, but he stays quiet for a second longer. He looks up at Bellamy, who looks so open and genuine, and he can’t imagine why he wanted to deny him something as simple as company. The thought now seems ludicrous, and rather than say the first thought that came into his head, he thinks it over and speaks with his heart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” he says. “Let’s do it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bellamy’s well and truly stunned. “Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Murphy laughs. “Yeah, I do. I’ll be a pioneer with you. Why not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bellamy’s eyes shine as he holds out a hand that Murphy takes without question. He allows himself to be pulled up into a standing position, and he doesn’t say anything in protest when the grip on his hand remains. “Okay, then,” Bellamy says. “Pioneers it is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s something else that Murphy knows to be true, something that’s different about this moment, but it falls out of his reach as soon as he thinks about it and then it’s gone forever. It’s just him, Bellamy at his side, and a whole wide world out there ready to be explored. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m ready,” Murphy says, and together they walk out towards the horizon.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this was just a short little thing i wrote to get myself out of writer's block while i work on a bigger, much longer fic (that may or may not ever see the light of day). i hope it was enjoyable nonetheless!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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